Two Clicks
by Sparkle Itamashii
Summary: Are you going to stop me now? *Before Storm* *boyslove:1x2x1*


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Author: CONTACTcon-589113507 Sparkle Itamashii

Title: Two Clicks

Warnings: Respect the rating. See profile for details

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing After Colony (AC) is NOT MINE.

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**Significant Note**: The following happens prior to and affects the storyline of Through the Storm. Storm's storyline war lasted just over three years after the boys joined, instead of just over one.

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**Two Clicks**

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There I was, just standing there, knowing that what I wanted to do was forbidden. He was stretched out on the futon, one arm slung up behind his head, the other slackly grasping the manual that had fallen forward onto his chest. Eyes closed, breathing even, defenses down… Heero was definitely asleep and had been for a while by the looks of it. As my mind raced I wavered, ever so slightly, and the paper grocery bag in my arms rattled the tiniest amount. I flinched but Heero gave no indication that he had heard. I swallowed thickly and let the door click shut behind me, almost silently. I would have to fix that so it made more noise, in case we were found, but for now it was perfect.

He would never have to know.

I let the groceries down to the floor as gently as possible, tensing inside with every crinkle, every shift of the contents, but he still he didn't wake. Truthfully I wasn't surprised; he'd been awake all night, up on his damn computer, pulling strings and causing trouble for the people who were after us. Not that I wasn't thankful, but it seemed like he was pushing himself to the point of breaking, all the time, yet he never let himself break. He slept when he had to, but only long enough to ensure his ability to continue. He ate, but he never paid attention to what he ate, nor ate more than exactly what he needed to sustain energy. Back then I'd have bet a thousand bucks he'd never had a piece of chocolate in his life, nor would he know how to enjoy it if he did.

Slowly I crept forward, not bothering to take off my heavy black boots; the floor was thickly carpeted and despite their weight they made next to no noise. I began to wonder who had reserved this apartment as a safe-house, because it certainly wasn't Heero. Quiet doors, quiet floors, thick walls… we would have to leave soon, but the thought was distant in the back of my mind. There were more important matters at hand now. Matters which would probably end in a life or death situation.

Probably death, if I wasn't careful.

He stirred and I froze, wondering how best to look innocent in case he awoke. I hadn't done anything yet. "I didn't want to wake you up," I would say. "I thought I'd take care of the groceries later, when you were up." Both of which were true statements, because waking him up by doing what I was about to do would be a very, very bad idea. But he didn't wake, merely twitched his fingers against some dream-created gun and returned to lying perfectly still.

Even in sleep the guy couldn't relax.

Taking a deep breath, I skirted around the edge of the couch and slipped as quickly and quietly as I could into the desk chair. His laptop slept like the dead in front of me, without so much as the blinking green light of life to say that it was working. I glanced over my shoulder but as there was no protest I turned my attention back to the computer. It was compact and black, completely non-descript in every way from the cover to the bottom. On the top of the case was a small, curly "C" to indicate its maker, except that I had never seen that particular symbol used on a laptop. I ran my hands over the top almost reverently, feeling the cold grain of new plastic and wondering how often he changed computers.

I sat there for a long few minutes, counting my racing heartbeats and weathering the slight, dizzy feeling that came with doing something you know you shouldn't, something you knew you would be caught at doing. Something, I thought as I closed my eyes and steeled myself, that would cause a lot of trouble very quickly if I _was_ caught. Those seconds, ticking away relentlessly, were my last few to turn away and be able to truthfully say nothing had happened.

But I couldn't.

I had to know.

With more determination than I had to muster to pilot a mobile suit of mass destruction into certain suicide, I slip open the catch on his laptop and lifted the screen away from the keyboard, revealing the totally black face of the machine. It stared blankly at me, dead without power. I traced along the top edge, above the keyboard, feeling for a power button in the darkness of the apartment. It clicked and life flickered on the screen as little green lights switched on along the edges. I listened to the quiet whir as it started, hoping that he had left the sound off- he always left the sound of but it would be my luck if this was the one time he hadn't.

Heero was faithfully a creature of habit, however, and the desktop appeared without a greeting sound. There were only four icons on his entire screen and the background was the factory setting blue with little inscribed C's. Hotlink to the hard drive, a communications receiver program, a radio device, and the icon to a program I didn't recognize but assumed produced something very bad. I steered the little mouse to hover over the hard drive link but paused, considering everything I knew about Heero.

I clicked on the fourth icon, the one I didn't recognize, and the hard drive opened, revealing two folders. Bingo. The icons were switched; whatever eager mind decided to try and access the hard drive by clicking on the obvious icon would most likely only initiate a program which would fry the computer completely. No wonder the computer felt new; it had probably been replaced a few times already after mis-clicks and invasions of privacy. Sighing in relief at having avoided destroying Heero's computer (which would have started this week of hiding off wonderfully), I hovered the cursor over the two folders.

"Work" said the first one.

"Home" said the second.

Funny, that a boy with no home and no memory of what home should be would have a folder named as such. Not funny "haha," either. It was the sort of funny that makes the pit of your stomach sink and your thoughts wander into dangerous territory. Exactly what sort of things does a soldier with no home and no family and very few friends put into a folder named 'Home'?

Curiosity got the better of me and I clicked to open it. Another folder popped open and inside were documents and pictures with anonymous sounding names. C00154-283. C00156-286. 808DOC2. The pictures had been taken off multiple digital cameras and the documents looked as though they had all been created on the computer- none dated older than two weeks ago, around about when he'd been ever-so-briefly captured. He must have had to replace his computer after that. The mouse hovered over those documents as I stared at them, wondering which to open first, wondering what they might contain. Statistics? Records? Journals?

The faint click of a pistol cocking behind me interrupted my wandering thoughts and I stiffened. Shitshitshit. I'd been caught. I raised my hands to around my shoulders to show that they were not on the keyboard and I heard him make a noise of annoyance.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, though he clearly knew the answer.

"Nothing I should probably be doing if I'm interested in continued life," I responded wryly. I hadn't even heard him get up, much less find his gun. "I didn't open anything revealing," I added, just in case it would help. "I only just sat down a minute ago."

"You did not have permission to open that laptop. Close it," he ordered and I didn't hear him putting the gun down so I reached forward and clicked it shut.

"I didn't see anything," I repeated. "No documents, no pictures. I didn't open any of those."

"I know," he said evenly. "I gave you two clicks."

At that I put my hands down and turned in my seat to face him, putting one arm over the back of the chair. "You weren't sleeping at all, were you." It wasn't a question- I should have known better.

"I heard your keys in the door," he replied, not wavering at all, still aiming directly between my eyes.

Of course he'd heard me. I should have realized that immediately and it disturbed me slightly that I hadn't. "You'd better put that down before someone gets hurt," I said, as lightly as I could, trying to change the subject and get a little safety before I moved. I was pretty sure he wouldn't just shoot me in the face without reason, but who could ever tell what he was going to do?

His aim lowered half an inch but the weapon did not get put away just yet. "Move." Containing my sigh, I slipped from the chair and walked toward him, watching as he set the gun on the cabinet beside the couch. He glanced back to me, almost uncertainly, and then to his computer. "Why did you try to get into my computer?"

I placed both my hands on the back of the couch and leaned on them, staring at him for a moment, contemplating. He stared solidly back, a mask of mystery, waiting patiently. He had known I was coming in, yet he'd remained 'sleeping' on the couch. He'd let me walk past him. He'd listened to me open the computer, and he'd only stopped me when I had seemed intent on going through things in the computer. He hadn't been playing 'asleep' for _that_. A smile that would have made the Cheshire cat jealous crept onto my lips as I realized the question he was really asking.

"Why?" I murmured, almost a purr. "Did you want me to go for something else?"

His eyes narrowed at the insinuation. "You could have put the food away," he said simply. Though he knew exactly what I meant, he was so damn good at side stepping. I always thrilled a little bit when we got this close. It was like playing Russian roulette where if I kept winning I could open him up bit by bit- but one wrong word and I'd lose talking to him, likely for days.

"Mm." I shifted and slipped over the back edge of the couch so that I was sitting on it, feet on the cushions and smiled again. He didn't move, his deep blue eyes never leaving mine. "I could have. But who wouldn't take an opportunity left open to them like that?"

Scowling, he snorted. "It wasn't 'left open' to you," he growled as he began to turn to walk away from me.

"You didn't stop me," I pointed out and he froze. "You gave me two clicks. Three if you count opening the computer. You could have stopped me as soon as I set the bag down, or walked past you."

"Hm," he grunted, not turning to me.

Stretching out first one leg and then the other I rose from the couch and took a careful step towards him. I could tell his attention was focused on me, even if he was not actually looking at me. Heero was one of those people who didn't have to be looking at you to know exactly what you were doing. Which, consequently, was why I was surprised when he did not shy away from me when I laid the palms of my hands gently against his shoulder blades.

It didn't matter what he said about wanting to see what I would touch on the computer; I didn't believe a word of it. I had only gotten close to Heero a handful of times since we'd been dumped into the war a couple months ago. Stand-offish and curt, he often gave the impression that all he wanted in the entire world was to be left alone and yet each time I saw him he resisted me less. Even just talking to me had become less of a chore and now… Now I knew that he hadn't been waiting to see what I would do with the computer.

He'd been waiting to see what I would do with _him_.

I smiled, lips just above the skin of his neck, knowing he could feel it. "Are you going to stop me now?"

My words, whispered against his shoulder, traveled straight down his spine. He did not move to stop me, however, and I took his non-resistance as an invitation. Slowly, barely touching, I drew my hands from his shoulder blades, down his sides, settling them along his hips as I brushed my lips against the hollow of his neck. He tensed, ever so slightly and I paused long enough to notice my own blood was racing. Playing with him like this was a dangerous game, worse than teasing any wild animal. Death was the least of the bad endings Heero could provide and I knew it very well by now.

His shoulder bumped my chest as he turned to face me. I swallowed my sudden fear and leaned forward, capturing his lips before he could say a word to stop me. He made a noise in the back of his throat, a surrender, and then he was kissing me back. Soft at first, almost hesitant, as if he was not sure if it was okay; he had never returned a kiss in the half dozen times I'd gotten the balls to risk it. My eyes closed as his fingertips smoothed along my jaw, along the back of my neck, pulling me closer, deeper.

Slowly he eased away until our breath mingled but our lips no longer touched. His forehead rested against mine, eyes downcast, fingers curled in the hair at the nape of my neck. I let him be, let him think, wondering somewhere in the back of my mind if I was about to get socked. But he didn't. He touched his nose to mine, kissed me lightly once more, so quick I didn't have time to react, and then he was gone, moving once more for that damnable computer.

"Put the groceries away," he said evenly, as though nothing at all had happened. "And next time don't touch my computer first."

I smiled.

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**/End Two Clicks/**

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